


Let Your Heart Be Light

by ciaconnaa



Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: CHRISTMAS FIC BITCHES, Comedy, F/M, I hope it eventually gives you a cavity, fluff and a little bit of angst but mostly fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-12
Updated: 2017-03-11
Packaged: 2018-09-08 05:11:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8831731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ciaconnaa/pseuds/ciaconnaa
Summary: In which Nick participates in a bake-off of ridiculous proportions, Bogo hosts a holiday party, Clawhauser is obsessed with mistletoe, and Judy has no idea what to get her niece for Christmas. 'Tis the season!





	1. pasta

“Okay, and that’s it for Clawhauser’s gift,” Judy declares as she marks off his name on her phone and stuffs it in the pocket of her winter coat. “Now all that’s left is Nick,” she adds before she holds out her paw for the smaller rabbit standing beside her. “You got any ideas, Aggie?”

Silently, Judy’s niece grabs hold of her outstretched paw and clings to her side. “No,” she whispers, nuzzling against the chilled fabric of Judy’s coat; it makes the fur on her coat get all static. “Can we go home now?”

With a soft sigh that gets lost in a gust of wind, Judy gives Agatha’s paw a squeeze. “Yeah, we can. But first,” she lifts her head and nods down the street. “Should we get some hot chocolate for the road?”

It’s not the full tooth-dazzling grin she’s hoping for, but the little shadow of a smile that Agatha gives is enough to remind Judy that she might not be doing such a bad job after all.

But the feeling always creeps back.

 

* * *

 

“Nick, I don’t know what else to _do.”_ She can hear him knocking a wooden ladle against one of the pots on the stove as she folds their laundry in the other room. “She’s seems so…so—“

“Miserable?” Nick offers, followed by a loud slurp and a noise of contentment.

Judy’s ears flatten against her skull. “Yeah. That.”

“She probably is. But I wouldn’t worry about it.”

And then Judy’s ears perk right back up. She hastily finishes folding one of Nick’s shirts before she rushes out into the kitchen and hops up on the bar stool next to the island. “What do you mean don’t worry about it? You’re saying I should just let her be miserable?”

Nick shrugs before taking another taste of his homemade pesto sauce with a quizzical quirk of his brow. “Does this taste alright to you?” he asks, holding the spoon out for her to taste.

She tries (and fails) not to pout, but tastes it anyway. It’s fine. “Yeah, it’s okay. Now, about—“

“Just _okay?_ I think it’s pretty good…”

“Nick! It’s her first Christmas with me, and her first Christmas since….well. I want it to be a good one.”

“Look,” Nick begins, setting the spoon down and wiping some stray pesto sauce on the front side of his raggedy apron, “When your parents die around Christmas, it probably puts a damper on Christmas for…well, maybe forever. There might not be such a thing for a good Christmas for Aggie for a while. It’s understandable.”

Judy sighs, leaning against the countertop. “This sucks.”

“I know,” Nick admits with a wry smile. “I’m sorry, Judy.”

“Yeah,” she sighs again, “Me too.” Sounds of clatter fill the kitchen as Judy watches Nick finish cooking dinner for what will be the three of them. “I still haven’t gotten her a Christmas present,” she admits, albeit embarrassingly. She still hasn’t gotten Nick’s present either, but Judy isn’t going to go so far as to admit that.

Nick, however, give a smug smile as he licks some more pesto off his finger. “I have.”

“Of course you have.” A pause. “What’d you get her?”

“Nope.” Nick says, making a zipping motion with his fingers. “Every gift is a Christmas surprise, you know that,” he tells her as he dishes out three bowls. Judy helps carry the food over to kitchen tables—these days she takes extra effort to sit down and actually have a meal with Agatha and Nick, instead of eating a sandwich over the sink while she watches home improvement shows from her phone.

Judy tries (and fails) not to sulk at the table. “It’s gotta be good.”

“Of course,” Nick agrees, delicately twirling his pasta in his spoon.

“So good, her smile splits her face in _half_.”

“Is there any other smile worth a damn?”

“The best Christmas gift _ever.”_

“Oh, absolutely.”

“….a sweater?”

“No.”

Judy’s face meets the kitchen table where she feels it is rightfully deserved. She’s contemplating how long she should just squish her face into glass-top when her big bunny ears picks up the sound of the door opening.

“Hey kiddo, you’re just in time for dinner,” Nick says as he reaches across the table to pick Judy’s head up to face the world. “It’s still warm.”

“Thanks, Nick,” Agatha says quietly as she sheds her jacket and lays it carefully on the rack by the front door. While Agatha has always been a neat and tidy rabbit, Judy kind of wishes she’d catch her throwing her clothes on the floor or kicking her shoes off across the room—that way, she’d at least know Agatha felt like she was at home.

Judy straightens up in her chair and puts on her best smile. “How was school?”

“Fine,” Agatha says, her tone not unkind, but rather tired. If Judy doesn’t know any better, it seems elementary school is really kicking her niece’s little bunny butt these days. But then she looks up and gives Nick a smile. “Mrs. Howler really liked the peppermint bark you made for us.”

The sheer force of excitement that courses through Nick’s veins in that very moment is something akin to a lightning strike. His eyes go wide and Judy can’t believe he doesn’t burst with anticipation. “Did she like it more than Jessie’s mom’s peanut brittle?”

Agatha’s smile grows. “ _Everyone_ liked the peppermint bark more.”

Judy jumps a little when Nick pounds a fist on the table, followed by a hushed, “Got ‘em.”

“You really couldn’t let Halloween go, huh?” Judy asks.

Nick looks put off. “Jessie’s mom used _candy corn._ No one likes candy corn. It’s the Chief Bogo of candies.” Judy’s about to defend her love of candy corn, but she drops the matter when she notices that Agatha is trying to stifle her giggles behind her pasta.  “But, seeing as it’s such a big hit, I’ll have to make it for the holiday party, huh?”

Agatha’s smile wanes a bit, but Judy can see that she’s trying. “I guess.”

“You don’t sound very excited,” Nick teases. “Which is a shame, because I need someone to help me cut all the sugar cookies into holiday themes shapes; I may need your free forming if I want the snowflakes to keep their authenticity. Snowflake stencils are a cop-out and I won’t stand for it.”

“Sounds fun,” Agatha agrees before the turns her attention to her meal. It isn’t convincing, and it makes Judy’s heart sink just a little as the continue eating in silence.

“You know what’s _really_ fun?” Judy baits after a few minutes. Her niece picks up her head. “Secret Santa at the station. I got Francine. Ask Nick who he got.”

“Who’d you get?”

Nick sighs. “Bogo.”

“You got your boss?” Agatha blinks rapidly before she giggles. “That’s funny.”

He joins in the laughter and reaches over to tug gently on one of her ears. “It is, isn’t it?”

“We’re going to open them at the party. You want to come, Aggie?” Judy offers, making sure the proposition sounds as appealing as possible. “There will be tons of food, decorations, music. I think Grizzoli is the DJ.”

Her niece’s little nose twitches. “Isn’t it a grown up party?”

“Everyone invites their families!” Judy exclaims. “I know Wolford’s son will be there.”

“Maybe…” she trails off before she pushes her half-eaten bowl of pasta out of her face. “I’m full. Can I eat the rest later? I kind of want to work on my math homework.”

“Sure,” Judy says softly as she watches Agatha jump down from her seat and pack up her food to put in the fridge. “Do you need any help?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Okay, let me know if you need anything, sweetie.”

Agatha nods before she heads back over the table. She steps on her toes and gives a peck of a kiss to one of Judy’s ears. “Thanks, Aunt Judy.” Then, she turns to Nick and gives him a hug from his seat at the table. “And thanks for dinner, Nick.”

He taps her nose fondly. “I can’t let my two favorite bunnies starve. Your aunt and I will pick you up after school tomorrow and we’ll have an early dinner and then we’ll see a movie. How does that sound?”

She smiles, silently, before she collects her things and runs up to her room.

Judy waits for the sound of her door closing before she lets her ears droop. “I’m doing a terrible job.” And just like that, her face met the tabletop once more.

Nick rolls his eyes. “Stop saying that. You’re doing _fine.”_ He reaches across the table and picks her head up, forcing her to look at him. “I’m serious, Carrots. And I’m hardly ever serious,” he smirks. “You’ve taken her in, gotten a new apartment that’s not the size of a shoebox,” his eyes roam her two-bedroom that she’d leased out the week she learned Agatha would be in her care, “And you’re smart enough to let me cook for you so you can keep her alive.” It isn’t Nick if he doesn’t make at least _one_ joke in a serious moment. “So relax.”

She _can’t._ “I just want to help her.”

That wry smile is back. “You can’t, not all at once; and that’s okay. Just keep what you’re doing. She knows you’re trying.”

Judy knows that Nick’s advice comes from a place of experience—the full details of that experience hasn’t been shared with her, but she knows that Nick has faced his share of hardships. So out of respect, Judy decides to listen to him and not complain, nor pry. “Okay.”

“That’s my girl,” Nick nods. “Now, are you okay for me to leave the dishes?”

While Judy always does the dishes anyway, Nick usually stays and talks her ear off for an hour or so after dinner before heading back to his apartment. “Are you leaving already?”

“Yeah, I got some stuff to do.”

Her eyes narrow. “What kind of stuff.”

“Stuff-stuff.”

“Nick.”

He laughs. “Just let my holiday magic work in secret, huh?”

“You’re still looking for a gift for Bogo, aren’t you?”

“Do you think he’ll like a stapler?”

“Considering you broke the last three on his desk, I’d say yes.” She pauses, fearing he might actually take her joke seriously. “But don’t get him a stapler.”

Nick rolls his eyes and gets up from the table, heading to the coat rack for his jacket. “I’m not going to get him a stapler.”

“ _Or_ a three-hole punch.”

“Well damn, what am I gonna get him now?”

She walks him to the door. “Organic coffee. Snarlbucks just started selling it. He loves the stuff.”

Suddenly, Nick throws his head back and cries out in anguish. “Carrots!” He whines. “How could you! That’s such a good idea!”

Her face screws up in confusion. “Then what’s wrong?”

“ _I_ didn’t come up with it! Which means I can’t use it.”

“What are you talking about? Of course you can—“

“It’s not the same,” he pouts, and Judy smiles at the childish look on his face, paired with the stubborn crossing of his arms and small stamp of his foot. “It’s not a _real_ gift unless you come up with it yourself.”

“You’re a child,” she says good-naturedly. “No one thinks like that.”

He shrugs, looking more like an adult now. “Hey, that’s how my dad did Christmas, and _nobody_ did Christmas better than Arthur Wilde. So I know I’m right.”

Every once in a while Nick will mention his family in passing; she used to try and wiggle more information out of him, but she’s learned to let it go and just appreciate the Wilde Family Fun Facts when they come around. “So does this mean you’re really not going to help me with Aggie’s gift?”

“Sorry, darlin’—you’re on your own.”

He gives her a little wave and slips out the door, leaving Judy to sulk alone.

“Good luck thinking of something better than organic coffee,” she mumbles to the door before she turns on her heel and heads to the kitchen to start the dishes.


	2. waffles

_“Judy! Is this a bad time?”_

It is and isn’t. For once, Judy isn’t working, but she is in the middle of picking out a small Christmas tree for her living room with Nick and Agatha. “Just a second, mom,” she says before she reaches into her coat pocket for her headphones, slipping the buds in her ears to talk to her mom hands free. “Okay, what’s up?” she asks.

_“We were just wondering if you and Aggie were gonna make it to Bunnyburrow before or after Christmas.”_

Every year, Bunnyburrow has this whole light festival down at the town hall. It’s mostly something the kids and teenagers of the town put up, and Judy knows that the Hopps’ get into it a little more than some of the other family kids. When they unveil the decorations and trees, the townspeople throw a big Christmas party with food and enough booze to fill a silo. Then New Years’ comes, they do it all over again, and if the drunks don’t tear down the decorations, the kids do the next day. All in all, it’s a pretty fun holiday tradition, and Judy has yet to find something that can rival it in Zootopia.

Although, as she watches her niece excitedly tug on Nick’s jacket to show her the crooked tree that’s captured her heart, Judy think this year just might be able to pull it off.

“I haven’t asked her,” Judy finally says when her mom asks twice whether or not she was still on the phone. “Agatha hasn’t been in Bunnyburrow since the funeral.”

_“I know, but her cousins and friends have been asking about her. Does she talk about them any?”_

Judy’s nose twitches. “No,” she admits. “Not really.  I mean, she hasn’t mentioned anyone else to me.” She watches as Nick tries to convince Agatha they should pick the tree that clearly won’t fit in her apartment.  “I’m sure she misses them.”

_“So that means you’re coming?”_

She really didn’t want to break her mother’s heart, and yet: “I can’t make any promises,” Judy tells her. “But I’ll definitely ask her.”

_“Sounds like a plan, baby,”_ her mom starts. _“I’ll—“_

“Carrots!” Nick cries, and Judy lifts her head down the tree farm. “We’re getting this one.”

“Nick, no, that tree won’t _fit—_ ugh, I gotta go, Mom. Love you,” and she hangs up as soon as she hears her mother return the sentiment.  “Nick. Agatha. That tree won’t fit in my living room.”

Nick hugs the tree defensively, despite the needles poking him. “But Moooooooooom,” he pouts, and he has Agatha in giggles.

Her foot starts thumping as she crosses her arms, a little peeved. She hates it when Nick does stuff like that, calling her names and teasing her like she’s a leech sucking all the fun out of stuff. Judy Hopps is not a fun-sucker.  “If you want it so bad, _you_ can buy it and try fitting it in _your_ living room.”

“We should get the crooked one,” Agatha insists yet again, pointing a few rows down.

“Why, because this fox used to be a little _crooked?”_ he says with feigned offense, leaning over to poke underneath one of Agatha’s arms.

Agatha swats his hands away and continues to look longingly at the tree. “If we don’t pick it, no one will.”

“I—“ Judy doesn’t really have any words for that. It seems like silly criteria for a tree, but Judy understands in a weird sort of way. Whenever they sorted carrots back on the farm, the family would always eat the more crooked ones, as they were less likely to be bought. She, too, felt somewhat sorry for the ugly looking carrots, even though they didn’t have any feelings. “Alright. If that’s the one you want, we’ll get it.”

Her face lights up and Nick offers her a high five before he goes on a rant for particular design aesthetics to play up the tree’s uniqueness. Judy can’t quite wipe the smile off her face as she walks up to the moose running the tree lot. “I’ll take the crooked one that those two over there can’t stop hugging.”

The moose laughs. “Your daughter is adorable.”

At first, Judy never really knew how to respond to the conclusions that mammals would make. She certainly didn’t blame them—as her niece, Agatha looked a lot like Judy already—but when the wounds of their loss were still fresh, it was hard. Now, it’s easier, especially when Agatha is out of earshot—Judy has learned to agree and move on. “Thank you,” she says softly, before turning her head back to where her bumbling fool of a partner is pretending to lift the tree on his own. “How much?”

She shakes her head. “No need—your boyfriend paid for it already when you guys got here.”

That is also _another_ conclusion that Judy doesn’t necessarily know how to respond to—though she is always considerably surprised at how well her perceived romantic relationship with Nick is. The moose clearly has no problem with a predator-prey relationship, even though the relationship in question doesn’t exist.

Doesn’t mean she doesn’t play that one up.

“Did he now?” Judy asks flatly before she crouches down in the snow and packs it in her paws. “Thanks, _honey--”_  she calls, waiting for Nick to turn around before she puts her softball days to good use and whirls it at his head; it hits his right ear.

Or at least that’s where she wants it to hit.

“Agatha!” Judy gasps, paws covering her mouth in shock. “Sweetheart, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t trying to hit you!”

“Oh, it’s on now,” Nick declares, leaning over to make his own snowball. Agatha finishes brushing the snow out of her ears before she joins him, smiling and not the least bit angry that her aunt just completely torpedoed her with a snowball. “Two against one, fluff. You don’t stand a chance.”

Somehow, Judy doesn’t mind.

 

* * *

 

After Finnick loans his van and Nick and Judy get the tree into her apartment, Judy is more than happy to get to work, even if it is for an odd night shift that she and Nick were asked to pick up before they get some holiday time off. While her fox of a partner made a hell of a teammate, they weren’t without their differences--having to argue for 20 minutes about how to carry the tree in and where to put it is proof enough of that. So after leaving Finnick to play babysitter and telling Agatha they’ll decorate the tree later, Judy gets her fuzzy tail to the station as soon as possible.

As usual, Judy and Nick are greeted at the front desk by Clawhauser, only he’s packing up his things, getting ready to leave for the day. He bears the usual Christmas cheer that he’s been wearing for the past few days--a Santa hat and a few holiday pins placed underneath his uniform name tag. Only today, Judy notices that he’s tied mistletoe to the end of his hat so that it dangles above his head.

Or so he thinks.

“What’s with the holly?” Judy asks, teasing; she _knows_ it’s supposed to be mistletoe, but because she comes from a family where plant husbandry is _kind of a big deal_ she can’t really help herself. That or, Nick’s influence is really starting to rub off on her.

Clawhauser’s expression is uncharacteristically sour. _“I know,_ it’s not really mistletoe but I couldn’t find any this morning, so I thought I’d improvise.” He pouts. “I didn’t think so many mammals would notice.”

Judy beams, jabbing a thumb into her chest. “Farmer’s daughter.”

Nick shrugs. “Had me fooled,” he admits, before he leans down and kisses Judy on her right ear. “That’s what you’re supposed to do, right?”

Clawhauser _squeals._ “Well, isn’t that just adorable! But if you ask me, the tradition is a little more _heated_ if you catch me drift.” He throws a wink Judy’s way.

Ever the one to play along, Nick winks back before Judy can blush her way to _death_. “The holiday season ain’t over, buddy. Just wait until the station Christmas party. Get ready to pucker up.”

“Ooooh,  I can’t wait!” Clawahauser exclaimed, his holiday spirit blinding him from any innuendo Nick might make. “Oh, Judy, please tell me Agatha’s going to be there. I picked out the _cutest--_ I mean, the most fashionable sweater that she’s just going to love.”

Part of Judy is jealous that someone like Clawhauser can get away with giving Agatha a sweater and she can’t. "Does everyone know what to get her except me?" She asks, but the answer is, apparently, rhetorical. No one is giving her any ideas, so she lets it go. “I’m doing my best to convince her. She’s not the biggest fan of the holidays, as you can imagine.”

Again, Clawhauser’s mood shifts, this time to something somber. “Right...I forgot. I’m sorry, Judy.”

“I know you are, it’s okay,” Judy says before clearing her throat, hoping for a grand subject change. Or at least anything that isn’t Agatha’s dead parents.  “Who’d you get for Secret Santa?”

_“Carrots,”_ Nick cuts in, exasperated, and Judy rolls her eyes. “You cannot ask someone what their Secret Santa is.”

She frowns. “What are you talking about? _You_ told me who you got!”

“That’s different,” he defends. “I told you, I didn’t _ask.”_

Judy throws both paws up in the air. “I give up!” She says with what is mostly feigned exasperation, a smile twisting on her lips. “No more holiday talk. I’m getting back to work.”

She and Nick start to walk away when she notices that Clawhauser looks a little put off. Glancing at Nick, she notices that he has the same mischievous twinkle in his eyes (not like his ever goes _away)_ and the two of them jump up on the lobby desk to plant a kiss on each of Clawhauser’s cheeks.

Of course, he squeals. “Now _that’s_ Christmas Spirit!”

 

* * *

 

When Judy gets home, Finnick is asleep on her couch and Agatha is sitting on the living room floor in a pile of construction paper.

“Hey, Aggie,” she says quietly as she hangs her coat up on the rack. “What are you still doing up?”

Judy doesn’t really have to enforce a bedtime with her niece--this is the only time she’s ever been up at 3:41 in the morning. Then again, maybe she’s always up and Judy just….doesn’t notice on account of being asleep. Regardless, she lets it slide, since it’s the holidays and not a school night.

“Making ornaments,” Agatha says quietly. Judy looks up and notices that the tree is already strung with rainbow lights and popcorn strings--a Hopps family tradition that Judy admits she didn’t keep in her last two Christmases in Zootopia.

She joins her on the floor, trying to block out Finnick’s snoring. “You didn’t have to do it by yourself. Me and Nick would have helped in the morning.”

“I know,” Agatha whispers. “And I wasn’t trying to do everything by myself, it’s just…” she quirks her mouth and sighs, seemingly giving up when she adds. “My dad would time it.”

Judy blinks. “...Time it?”

“The decorating,” she explains, “Every time we got a tree, he’d time how fast it took him, mom and me to decorate the tree. It was always hours, but...it was a lot of fun. And it felt weird not to start decorating the tree when it was put up so….I just started. I hope that’s okay.”

“Of course.”

“Did you and dad do that when you were kids? Time decorating or something?” She asks suddenly.

“Oh,” Judy stutters, a little unprepared to talk about her brother at 3:43 in the morning.  “No.  It wasn’t just us, there were. Uh….let’s see…..around one seventy-five of us when I was your age? We had fun decorating around the house but with so many of us, we got done pretty quickly.” Now that she thinks about it, that's probably why her brother's tradition started, especially when their family had been so small.

Agatha nods in understanding, but Judy can’t help but feel like she’s disappointed.  Then, Judy remembers the conversation she had with her mother on the phone. “Agatha?” She looks up at her. “Did you want to go back to Bunnyburrow for Christmas?”

Immediately, she shakes her head no. “I’d like to stay here, please. If that’s okay.”

“Yeah,”  Judy whispers, petting one of Agatha’s ears. “That’s okay.” She’ll talk about New Years another night. “How about this,” she suggests. “Let’s see how many paper snowflakes you and I can make for the tree before Finnick wakes up.”

“Too late,” Finnick says from the couch, eyes still closed.

Judy _jumps,_ startled. “You’re the worst babysitter ever, you know that?” Judy sighs, and Agatha giggles. “You aren’t supposed to fall _asleep.”_

“The house didn’t burn down and neither did your kid. I did my job,” he yawns, turning over on the couch.  “I’m sleeping here the rest of the night.”

Judy knows that if he left, he’d just sleep in his van, and Judy doesn’t have the heart to let him or his pride do that, not when it's chilly out. “Fine by me,” and she doesn’t even get the rest of the sentence out before he starts snoring.

“He talks in his sleep, too.” Agatha tells her. “Something about pawpsicles.”

She smiles. “Nick can tell you all about that. And speaking of Nick,” she nods the tree. “He’s gonna be upset you started without him.”

Agatha shrugs. “Guess that just means he’ll have to invite us over to help him decorate _his_ apartment.”

Judy laughs. “Why do you want to see his apartment so bad?”

“Does he _really_ have as many antique lamps as you say?”

“Probably has more by now,” Finnick pipes in, and Judy jumps again. “I don’t know where he keeps _finding_ them.”

“Go to sleep,” Judy begs, annoyed at being started twice in less than ten minutes; he grumbles, but doesn’t say anything more. “Hey,” she nudges Agatha. “If we’re going to pull an all nighter to finish decorating this tree, we’re going to need provisions.”

Agatha smiles. “Hot chocolate?”

“Hot chocolate _and_ waffles. Diner down the street?”

She nods enthusiastically for someone who’s awake at three in the morning and hops up to grab her coat.

Figuring he’s probably still awake, Judy asks, “You want us to bring you back an omelette, Finn?”

He offers a thumbs up from his spot on the couch before Judy and Agatha are out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay fuck me??? christmas bamboozled me. knocked me the fuck out. work has been insane and drunk men are the worst. SO. this christmas fic is late, and I'm sorry but because I think it's fun so it'll be finished in january and it'll be great. sorry I couldn't get it done sooner, I did my best!!!! I haven't forgotten about 9 yards, it's just....I need to write cute and sappy and fun so once this is done, I'll go back to that. thanks.


	3. coffee

“And _that_ is how you wrap the perfect gift.”

Judy is just a little proud that Agatha seems somewhat awed as she finishes scribbling the _To Mom and Dad, Love Judy_ note on the gift. Rightly so, too; Judy didn’t spend so much time selecting the perfect winter themed wrapping paper and colored ribbon combination to be _mediocre_ at best.

Agatha runs her paw along the ribbon. “You can’t even see the tape or paper edges or _anything.”_

“Mmmhm,” Judy’s smile is smug. “I was the best wrapper in the whole Burrow. If it wasn’t so cruel, Mom and Dad would have kicked me off the Secret Santa list by the time I was 12. Everyone always knew which gift was mine.”

That gives way to a quizzical brow on Agatha’s part. “Secret Santa? You did that with your parents?”

“Mmhmm,” Judy repeats as she checks over her gift for any imperfections, just in case. “We did it with the whole family. With so many of us, it was the only way we could only way we could really exchange gifts with all my siblings.”

From the couch, Nick  continues to fold and cut whatever creation he’s claimed is going to go on top of the Hopps Christmas tree. “Were your gifts as splendid as your wrapping job?”

“ _I_ thought so,” Judy laughs, “But I don’t think Luke liked my handmade flashcards with astronomy facts.”

“Carrots,” Nick begins, the endearment almost lost in his breathless laugh, “Only you would put school and learning in a Christmas gift.”

She feels her foot thumping against the hardwood floors. “We couldn’t always afford to be _fun_ , and besides….he needed them if he wanted to pass eighth grade science.”

This time Agatha joins in with Nick on the laughter, right before he jumps off the couch with a loud, “Aha!” He holds up his creation and Judy is impressed to find that is actually resembles a star of some sort. “Tada! The perfect tree topper.”

Agatha runs over to take a look, marveling at the shiny gold center that’s keeping each paper petal--point whatever it is together. Upon further inspection, Judy notes that it’s his _badge._ “Nick we’re not putting your badge on our tree. You need it for work!”

“It’s not my badge,” he defends, walking over  to the tree to put it up. “Or at least, it’s only my first one.”

He climbs on the back of the couch and Judy says a half a dozen prayers that he doesn’t fall off and break his tail before he manages to put it on top of the tree. The gold shimmer plate catches the lights just right and she can read _Junior Detective_ on the sticker.

“How many of those do you have?” she asks when she looks over to the coffee table to see a bunch of them on a roll by the remote.

“I stick one on Finnick’s van every time I see it parked at his favorite pub,” he smirks.

“And how many have you stuck--”

“Forty-seven.”

“Sweet cheese and crackers.”

Agatha walks over and peels one off the roll before she sticks it on her front pocket of her overalls. “Do you think I’d make a good Junior Detective?”

 _“Aggie,”_ Nick admonishes with exaggerated pizazz, “You’d be the _best._ No one’s got a keen eye like you do. Your attention to detail is impeccable. No one meticulously fishes the marshmallows out of her cereal every morning quite like you do.”

In response, Agatha rolls her eyes, but Judy sees her fighting a smile. The sticker on the pocket remains. “Nick, can we bake cookies _now?”_

“Oh, I don’t see why not,” he tells her, as he pops his neck and back. “Considering you already decorated the whole apartment _without me._ We’ve got loads of time, huh? _”_

Agatha is quick on the defense. “We saved you the tree topper!” Her eyes are sparkling, ready for forgiveness. “I made sure of it--it’s the best part! You aren’t done decorating until that’s put up. That’s the last thing we always did when I lived in Bunnyburrow.”

Nick’s ingenuine pout melts away for a sincere smile and he reaches down to gently tug on one of Agatha’s ears. “Thanks, kiddo. That means a lot to me.”

“You’re welcome.” A beat. “Does this mean you’ll make snickerdoodles?”

“Aha! I see. All this mushy gushy stuff was just a ploy to get me to make extra cookies.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes, you insufferable munchkin,” he teases, pulling on her ear again. This time she scrunches up her nose and swats his paw away with a smirk. “I will bake snickerdoodles. But first we’re doing the sugar cookies so get the stencils out and get to molding, girl.”

While Nick continues to tease her niece over being left out of the Christmas decorating, Judy takes the opportunity to collect the gifts she intends to mail for her parents and go to drop them off to the post office before they all close down for the weekend holidays. She catches Nick’s eye as she’s grabbing her keys and he mouths a, “Don’t worry, I got her,” and he winks before he goes back to discussing the color options for the cookies.

She walks, thankful the gifts aren’t fragile and are small enough to fit in one of Nick’s old canvas backpacks he’s left lying around in her apartment that she’s since claimed as her own. Her pace is brisk as she tries to ignore the cold--City Central is one of the few districts in Zootopia that isn’t climate controlled by giant AC’s and heaters, so she’s definitely feeling the cold winds the winter brings this season. There aren’t many folks out in the late evening chill, but Judy is surprised to find a familiar cape buffalo sitting on a bench with two cups of coffee in his hooves.

“Chief,” Judy greets, the word coming out in a chattering of her teeth. “Fancy seeing you here.”

He grunts, nodding to her backpack. “Going on a hike, I see.”

She smiles, adjusting the strap to the backpack. “I’m just spreading some Christmas cheer,” she says. “You waiting for Kevin?”

Bogo nods. “It would seem we still have some shopping left to do, if you can imagine.”

“I can,” Judy admits. “I still haven’t gotten Nick a gift yet.” The wind blows and Judy fails to fight a shiver.

“Now _that_ I can’t quite believe. You aren’t one to procrastinate, Hopps.”

Judy’s laugh is sheepish. “I know. I’ve tried, believe me, but I just can’t find the right thing.”

Bogo stares at her, studies her, in a way that always makes her uncomfortable because when he looks away, Judy always feels like there’s something he knows that he’s not telling her. “I’m sure whatever you get Wilde will be just fine. An obscene tie to go with those absurd shirts of his, perhaps?”

She rolls her eyes. “I’m not going to feed his awful fashion habits, no matter how much I love him.”

That earns a side smirk out of her boss and he chuckles. Judy, feeling proud, giggles as well, but it comes out as more chattering as the cold wind blows. Bogo rolls his eyes and passes her one of the large coffees. “Here.”

It’s...cumbersome, so say the least. Besides; “I’m not going to drink Kevin’s coffee.”

He rolls his eyes again. Exasperation on her behalf is something Judy is used to, so she isn’t really bothered. “Don’t drink it, _hold it._ It’s warm.”

That it is. She holds it close. “I haven’t gotten my niece a gift yet, either.”

“You’ve _really_ been procrastinating.”

Judy slouches. “I can’t just give her some _toy_ or a _sweater._ It’s her first Christmas with me, it has to be special.” Bogo doesn’t respond on account of this conversation has taken a turn for the sentimental. Doesn’t mean she isn’t going to push it. “What’s your favorite gift you’ve ever gotten?” Hoping that somehow the spirit of Christmas will inspire her with his answer.

“Socks.”

It isn’t very inspiring.

“Socks?” Judy repeats with confusion, tilting her head to side. “Why _socks?”_

Instead of answering her question, he throws it back at her. “What’s yours?”

Judy blinks. To be honest, she hasn’t put a lot of thought into it. But she finds that one thing comes to her mind with ease, even though she hasn’t thought about it in years. “My watermelon bracelet.”

“Your watermelon bracelet.”

“I know it sound stupid, but--” she stops short, realization hitting. “Oh.”

From a few paces away. Judy sees Kevin coming over to meet Bogo. She hands the coffee back to Bogo, who nods in thanks. “Don’t overthink it, Hopps. I’ll see you at the Christmas party,” he tells her as he heaves himself off the bench to meet his husband. “Tell your fox no hot toddies this year.”

“No promises!”

With a third eye roll, Bogo takes his leave.

 

* * *

 

After Judy rushes to deliver her parents Christmas presents to the post office, she heads back home. Her previous ideas of browsing shops for Nick and Agatha’s presents is abandoned and instead she decides to take Bogo’s advice and just sleep on it. He’s got to be right, she’s probably just overthinking the whole situation.   A little rest, some holiday cheer, and then the station Christmas party tomorrow should put everything into perspective.

Also she still has no earthly idea what to get them, so there’s that.

Judy walks into the apartment to find Nick and Agatha as she left them, only now with soft voices and hushes giggles. Agatha looks happy, but tired, as she finishes icing the last of the sugar cookies. Upon a closer look, Judy decides they’re supposed to be snowflakes.

“Smells good,” Judy says, deliberately trying not to comment on their shape. She reaches over and breaks off a piece of one that hasn’t been iced and plops it in her mouth. Her eyes roll into the back of her head. “Tastes good, too.”

“No comment on the unique design, I see,” Nick says, nose high.

“They look silly,” Agatha admits, smiling, and it makes Nick drop the act and smile too. “But they’re yummy, so it doesn’t matter.”

“True,” Judy agrees. “They’ll get eaten at the party.”

“I still got to make peppermint bark, peanut butter balls, and….damn what was that last one….” Nick clucks his tongue.

“Snickerdoodles.” Agatha presses.

Nick gives her a noogie. “Okay, okay, calm down. I’ll get them tomorrow. It’s kind of late and you’re falling asleep on the icing. Head on up to bed.”

Agatha, for whatever reason, always listens to Nick, just as she always listens to Judy. She nods, eyes droopy with sleep and walks over to press a kiss to her aunt’s cheek. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Aggie,” Judy whispers.

“We’ll see you in the morning,” Nick promises, leaning over to give her a hug.

Agatha slips away silently while Judy heads over to the chest underneath her coffee table where she keeps Nick’s spare things. “You sleeping over?”

“Yeaaaaah,” he draws out in a hushes tone as he starts to rummage through the fridge. “I want to bake the snickerdoodles for Agatha so she can eat them when she wakes up.”

“Cookies for breakfast?” She lays out his stuff on the couch for him to make up his bed.

Nick shrugs, laying the ingredients on the counter.“How is it any different from donuts?”

Judy supposes there isn’t much argument for that, so she lets it go. Besides, it’s the holidays. Everyone knows you get to eat whatever you want for the holidays. “You’re real sweet, Nick. Thanks.”

Another shrug. “Aggie’s a cool kid. She’s _your_ kid, now. You two mean a lot to me.”

Her smile softens as she watches Nick bake. He’s too tired to strike up conversation and instead turns on some Christmas music by Frank Shrewnatra, a calm and easy look about her face. Judy starts to reflect on her conversation with Bogo from earlier. “Hey, Nick?” she asks, wandering over to the bar stool against the kitchen island.

“Yeah, darling?”

Normally his cutesy nicknames come from a place of teasing and sarcasm, but every once in awhile, when he’s exhausted, when he’s concentrating on something else, when he’s just not really thinking much at all, the endearments slip out as something loving and intimate. It doesn’t happen often, but it makes Judy feel warm. “What’s your favorite gift you’ve ever been given?”

He finally looks up, humming and tapping his chin in thought. But just like Judy had realized what her was instantly, she reckons that Nick knows what his was, too. “When I was younger, my dad spent years trying to get his tailoring and suit business off the ground. It required a lot of meetings with banks for loans, and he always brought me along. He’d dress me up in a suit and everything. He’d bring me along for the cuteness factor and he’d say, “Today’s the day, son. You’re my lucky Nickel.” He pauses in his story to laugh. “He always called me Nickel and I _hated it._ Called my sister Penelope, _Penny_ , too. _”_ He laughs as he says it, and it makes Judy smile. “But then one Christmas,” he pauses again, looking back down at the sugar cookies on the far end of the counter. “Our _last_ Christmas...he gave me a pair of cuff links. Made out of nickels. He made them himself.”

“Ever wear to them to a meeting?”

Nick smiles, a little somber. “Didn’t get the chance. But I put on my old, raggedy suit and wore it all Christmas day, just so I could put on those cuff links.”

Judy smiles in return.

“Anyway,” Nick shakes his head. “I guess that’s it. My favorite gift I’ve ever gotten. Unless you intend to top it this year.”

“I don’t think that’s the point of gift giving.”

The look he gives her is warm and loving, and she almost wishes he’d call her _darling_ one more time.  “You and my dad would have gotten along, I can tell. You both have the same twinkle in your eye for Christmas Spirit. You guys even like the same homemade little trinkets all around the house.”

“Yeah?” she says, trying to be a bit cheeky. “Did he string popcorn up on the trees?”

“Oh, yeah.” He looks up at the tree. “The tackier and more unique the tree, the better.”

She stiffens. “Are you saying my tree is _tacky_?”

“In the best way possible, darling.”

And only because she gets to hear him call her darling like that twice in one night, does Judy let it slide.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I strangely like this chapter, I think it's cute. I'd like to thank the people who think my characterization of Nick and Judy are passable--I was afraid I was butchering it. I promise that the story will eventually explain how Agatha came into Judy's custody. But for now--enjoy!
> 
> PS: bogo is totally captain holt and therefore his husband has to be named kevin, whoever that may be


	4. water

Even though Judy and Nick manage to get time off, the city still needs them.

The exception is a worthwhile one; she and Nick are called into work to report to a scene where an unstable infrastructure caused a parking deck in the downtown sector to collapse. Judy gets the call at around nine at night, which means that most work commuters have left and the collapse doesn’t take many cars or victims with it--but the truth of the matter is there are still mammals trapped in there and what more--tons of cars that could explode at any moment.

Not exactly the Christmas present anyone hopes for.

Nick’s beaten Judy by about two minutes when she gets there, having run straight from the nearest bus stop. The scene is crowded with flood lights, ambulances, paramedics and various ZPD officers scattered around. Her ears pick up on the whirling noise of a helicopter approaching as Chief Bogo comes into view.

He gets straight to the point. “Wilde, I need you working with paramedics. Lifting victims, distributing blankets and water, whatever they need. If that means riding in an ambulance, so be it. Hopps, you’re coming with me.”

They split up, but not before Nick gives her arm a quick squeeze. “Be careful,” he says, already scanning the scene to see where he’s needed most. Judy nearly has to run to keep up with Bogo as he leads her closer to the destroyed parking deck.

“While Lionheart’s old Mammal Inclusion Act might have given us _you_ , it hasn’t lent the ZFD any mammals small enough to fit into some of these crevices. We’ve accounted 22 mammals and we don’t expect many more since there weren’t very many cars in the deck, but paramedics believe they can hear someone, but can’t reach them. Until we can get airbags or drills or 10 more Fangmyer’s  to lift the rubble, we need someone small. Very small. Rabbit small.”

A medical kit is thrust into her arms.

“It could be a giraffe, could be a groundhog, could be another rabbit. I don’t know. You might not be able to do much, but we need you to crawl down there and tell us what you can see.  Got it?”

“Yes, Chief.”

“Hopps.”

“Yes, Chief?”

“Be careful.”

Nodding resolutely, Judy straps the medical kit on one shoulder and heads to center of the collapse where a leopard in a firefighter’s uniform is currently fiddling with the straps on her helmet. “I think they’re banging on a busted pipe,” she shouts. “Radio us what you see, Line 1.”

Judy nods again, adjusting the walkie on her breastplate. She takes the torch off her utility belt and sticks it in her mouth before she gets on her paws and knees and starts crawling through.

The initial opening is really cramped, and she understands why they called off duty officers such as Nick and herself to the site. She struggles to move around some of the bigger piece of rubble before it starts to open up and she isn’t belly to the floor, scraping by.

She tells them as much on the walkie. “It’s opening up. I think I’ll even be able to stand.”

_“Good. Keep looking, Hopps.”_

Judy takes the torch out of her mouth and starts scanning the floor as she stands up. She sees rocks, dust, piping, and more rocks. “Hello?” she calls out. “Can anyone hear me?”

She isn’t discouraged with no response and treks on; a little further down and the opening starts to shrink again and then

“Whoa- _shit!”_

There’s a drop, not a huge one, but enough to surprise her. She slips down maybe two feet and basically stubs her not-so-lucky rabbit’s foot as it would seem, but otherwise she’s fine. “I’m fine,” she says into the walkie. “I slipped, but I’m fine. Small drop.”

_“Copy that.”_

On her back, she lifts her head and sees both feet resting on some sort of panel. Maybe it was a door to a staircase at some point, she isn’t sure, but it looks moveable. “Hold on, I think there might be a pocket if I can just…” she trails off the line as she uses both feet to kick down the dusty panel, revealing the void within the collapse. “Got it.”

She can stand completely now and she uses her torch to light her surroundings; more rocks, more dust, but now a few cars and then-

“Oh, thank _God._ I was not about to die in a parking deck. That would have made a terrible obituary.”

Judy smiles, adjusts her medical pack, and gets to work.

 

* * *

 

It turns out Vincent the beaver with his tail jammed under a beam is a part time student, part time cook, part time  stand up comedian. Or at least that last part should be true. Judy finds him very funny.

“How long do you think we’ll be down here?” Vincent asks after Judy finishes checking his heartbeat like the medic on the walkie instructed.

“Until the airbags come in or the drills arrive or 10 Officer Fangmyers show up.”

Vincent laughs despite the pain he must be in. “Are you sure you can’t dig me out? The only reason I haven’t tried is because I can’t reach it.”

Judy considers her request as she tries to adjust the small flashlight and the light on her phone to light up as much of the dark area as possible. “I don’t know,” she finally answers. “Do you have your phone on you?”

“Yeah,” Vincent admits, wincing as he hands it over. “No bars though. I checked.”

Her smile is wry as she uses the flashlight app on his phone and shines it directly on his trapped tail. Grabbing her walkie, she lets the ZFD know, “I’m willing to try and pull him out. If I free him, no one will have to rush to open this particular...hole.”

_“He’s small enough to fit through the opening?”_

“Are your firefighter friends calling me fat?”

“I think so.” She says in the walkie before turning to Vincent, alarm in her tone. “About the opening! Not the fat thing.”

“I think your firefighter friends just called me fat,” he teases.

_“Alright go ahead. Be wary of secondary collapses; if you think you’re going to upset anything, stop.”_

Getting on her hands and knees Judy crawls slowly across the jagged rubble, trying to mindful of the small cut on her stomach that she got from crawling earlier. She starts feeling around his tail, trying to see if any of the concrete has been reduced to pebbles and-

It hasn’t.

“No can do,” Judy admits, somewhat woefully over the walkie. She turns to Vincent and gives a somber smile. “I’m sorry, Vincent. We’re stuck down here.”

He shakes his head. “Nah, you can go ahead. I don’t think I’ll keel over and die while I’m waiting for...what was it? 10 Fangmyers to come and pull me out.”

She scoffs. “I’m _not_ leaving you down here. That would be _rude,”_ she says tapping her badge. “And illegal, considering I’m an officer and I live to serve and protect. But mostly rude.”

He laughs. “If there’s a secondary collapse, there’s no point in both of us going down with it. I’m being serious,” and Judy can barely discern his tight-lipped smile in the low light of space. It doesn’t look very serious, despite the sincerity in his tone. “Get out of here while you can and spend a nice evening with your husband and 30 kids.”

She fixes him with a flat look that would make Nick proud. “That’s a stereotype, but I’m willing to let it go because it’s such a low ball number.”

“Not for city rabbit. Call it revenge for calling me fat.”

“I didn’t call you fat, _you_ called _you_ fat.” A beat. “I’m staying, and that’s that,” she declares, whipping out her phone. “Now, we may not have bars, but I still have 76% battery so I’m going to play Cwazy Cupcakes.”

Vincent gives her a skeptical look but allows Judy to wiggle beside her. He glances at her lock screen on her phone and his face lights up. “Your daughter? One of 30, I presume?”

“Her name is _Agatha,_ and she’s my one and only.”

“Old lady name, I dig it. Nice glasses--is she late for the math team, or the robotics club?”

“Hey! I picked those out for her! They’re nice!”

“I’d continue to tease, but I used to have a pair when I was 15, so maybe I can’t make fun. Plus, she’s clearly making nerdy trendy again.” He waits for her to unlock her phone before he grabs it and begins swiping through her photos. “Let’s see here, bunny, bunny, bunny, fox--ooh, Nick Wilde! You know Nick?”

“He’s my partner on the force,” Judy says, brow furrowed. “Wait, how do _you_ know Nick?”

“We used to bartend at the same bar a few years back. Gave me some killer points on a my stand up routine. Taught me everything I know.”

That explains why Vincent’s sense of humor is so….familiar. “I don’t know why I asked,” she chuckles. “I always forget Nick knows _everyone.”_

“Yeah, he sure does. Cool fox,” he mumbles as he starts flipping through Judy’s photos. A photo of Nick and Agatha at the tree farm, a picture of them cooking, and so forth. “Heh.”

“What’s so funny?”

Vincent turns the phone around before placing it back in her paw. “I’ve never seen him smile so much..”

Before Judy can even register what he’s just said, there’s a rumbling.

“Airbags or secondary collapse?” Vincent asks, and he has no qualms about grabbing Judy’s hand in freight.

She squeezes it back as the rumbling continues. “Better.”

There’s a cloud of dust before Officer Fangmyer appears through the opening.

“Hey,” she says, teeth played out in in a triumphant grin. She holds up some tool Judy can’t identify. “Let’s see if we can get you out of here.”

 

* * *

 

It takes another hour, but they all get out.

It will take a few more days to clear out the fallen parking deck, but rescue forces will learn that they did, in fact, get everyone out the night of the collapse like they initially believe. There are a total of 29 victims with a total of 13 broken bones and various cuts and bruises, but not a single death.

Judy thinks all in all, not too bad an outcome considering the circumstances.

When she walks through the door to her apartment, Nick is right behind her. She can still hear his nose twitching--the whole scene smelled like gasoline and she knows it probably lingers horribly on her. “I’ll take a shower in a second,” she tells him, shooting him an apologetic smile.

Nick loosens his tie before reaching into his pockets and dropping his wallet and the key to Judy’s apartment in the bowl by her front door. “It’s okay, take your time,” he smiles wearily at her. “I’m just glad everything worked out.”

She smiles back.

From the couch, Finnick snores.

He smooths her ears back before dragging her in for a hug. “God, you reek,” he finally says, pushing her away. “I lied, go take that shower.”

With a laugh she agrees, turning slowly on her heel towards the bathroom, only to find Agatha is standing right outside her bedroom door. “Hey, Aggie,” Judy whispers. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she says quickly. “I just...didn’t want to sleep until you came home.” A pause as she twists the hem of her night shirt in her paws. “Were there really mammals stuck underground?”

Judy walks past Nick and goes to kneel in front of her. “I’m sorry sweetie, Nick and I should have called Finnick and let you know that we’re okay. We didn’t mean to worry you.”

“I know,” she says, but her worry is still etched on her face. “It’s okay.”

Nick joins them, grabbing Agatha’s paws and smoothing her ears like he had done to Judy earlier. “It’s not. Like Judy said, we’re sorry.” Then, his lip twitches up in a smirk. “But guess what? Everyone gets to go home for Christmas.”

Agatha’s face lights up and Judy’s worries fade at the sight. “....yeah?”

“A few minor injuries but,” Judy nods. “Yeah. Everyone gets to go home for Christmas. No one died.”

“That’s good,” she breathes, and the shake in her voice doesn’t go unnoticed. “I’ll….go back to bed.”

“O-oh, okay,” Judy stutters as Agatha slips back into her room, the door shutting with a quiet click.

“Goodnight,” she whispers, and Judy knows it’s too quiet that even bunny ears couldn’t pick up on it.

 

* * *

 

Judy ends up taking an incriminatingly long shower and _thinks._

She can’t help but make comparisons between the parking deck incident and the car accident that killed Agatha’s parents last Christmas, even if their only similarity was the awful holiday timing of it all. When her brother and his wife died, Judy was in the city, unable to pull over the weary truck driver for reckless driving, nor was she the one to call to arrive at the scene of the wreckage.

There’s been some awful news-some _God awful news-_ that Judy’s had to deliver in the past. Four times she’s been the one to knock on doors to tell mothers, fathers, siblings and friends that someone they love isn’t okay. That there was an accident, a fire, a _gun-_ and that someone isn’t going to be around anymore.

So Judy is grateful that today isn’t a day where she has to knock on someone’s door.

But as the hot water starts to go cold, Judy wonders about the officer that knocked on her brother’s door, wonders how much of it Agatha actually remembers, wonders if their face is a part of her nightmares or nothing more than a blur during a difficult time of her life.

Judy wonders what would have been different if she had been the one to knock on Jasper’s door.

Of all her mother’s litters, Judy was  in the smallest; it was only the two of them, her and Jasper. Sometimes in small litters, the kits would be the closest, and others not--with so many siblings in bunny families, it didn’t really matter. You were bound to find one sibling to bond with. She and Jasper, while having similar temperaments, were night and day when it came to the things they liked and by the time they could read, Judy was just as close to Jasper as she was any of her other siblings--that meaning, not very close at all.

It didn’t bother her, not really. Sure, sometimes she was a little jealous that her sisters and brothers were super close to their littermates but it’s not like she _hated_ Jasper. She just...didn’t have anything in common with him. Her dreams of going to Zootopia to be a cop ostracized her quickly, and she accepted it.  Jasper was always going to be closer to Isabel, Isaac, Kyle, and a bunch of her other siblings. Okay, maybe it sucked a little, but it was fine. She had her life here, in Zootopia.

But what she still doesn’t understand is why Jasper picked _her_ to take care of Agatha in case something ever happened to his family.  Hell, she didn’t even known she was Agatha’s godmother until after he died. Such a big decision, and yet Judy never knew a damn thing. Honestly...she doesn’t think she’ll ever know.

The water is ice cold when Nick let’s himself in the bathroom. “Carrots?” He calls before he wretches the shower curtain open to find her sitting pathetically in the tub.

“Nick!” She squeaks, reaching for the curtain to cover herself up. She looks up to find he’s walked into the bathroom with one paw over his eyes. "What are you doing?"

“I’m _sorry_ , but you’ve been in here forever I thought maybe you _fell_ or--” he sighs and lowers his paw before he reaches into her shower to turn off the water. “You’ll get sick sitting in this cold water. Are you okay?” he reaches for her arm. “Did you get hurt? Did the paramedics miss something?”

In an attempt to save her modesty, she reaches for her towel and wraps it around herself. But Nick doesn’t even seem to be embarrassed, and to be honest, she can’t find the energy to be, either.  “No, I’m fine. I’m just tired.”

He helps her out of the tub, studying her face like he’s trying to pick out the lie; once he’s satisfied she isn’t hurt, his shoulders sag with the weight of his exhaustion. “I don’t want to drive half-asleep to my apartment. Can I sleep with you? I don’t want to kick Finn off the couch.”

“Yeah,” Judy yawns. “But I don’t want to hear you complain about the tight squeeze.”

“Oh, I won’t mind,” he says, unbuttoning his shirt. “After this freezing cold shower I’m about to take, I’m sure I’ll be in a cuddling mood for some warmth.”

“Can’t wait,” she deadpans, adjusting the knot on her towel.

She hears the shower curtain close again. “If I’m not out in 5 minutes, I’ve died of hypothermia.”

Judy rolls her eyes. “Okay. Can I have one of your shirts?”

“You’re already trying to take my things? Carrots, how _heartless_. Remind me to ask Bogo to give my eulogy.” The curtain rips open and Nick’s head pops out, suds in his fur and a chatter in his teeth. “Wait, which one?”

“No, I don’t want to take your-I want to _sleep in one.”_

“Oh,” he blinks, closing the curtain again. “Yeah, I think I have one of my ZPD ones in the chest of my things. Have at it.”

There isn’t a ZPD shirt but she does find an old _Star Fox_ shirt that looks extra comfy so she slips that on along with some old gym shorts and heads over to Agatha’s room, just to check on her.

“Hi,” Agatha whispers when Judy opens the door just a hair.

She notices her carrot nightlight is still on as Judy sits on the edge of her niece’s bed. “I was just going to give you a kiss goodnight,” and she scoots up further on the bed. “Night, Aggie,” she says, dropping a kiss on the top of Agatha’s head.

“Aunt Judy?”

“Yeah?”

“...Will you sleep with me tonight?”

In all the time that Agatha’s been with Judy, she’s never made such a request--it makes Judy realize that this night was just as difficult for her niece. “Yeah,” she whispers, already crawling underneath the covers. Agatha rests her head on Judy’s shoulder. Her eyes flicker to the lamp on her bedside table and she reaches over to turn it off.

“Aunt Judy?” she whispers into the dark.

“Yeah?”

“...I miss my parents.”

She leans over and kisses one of Agatha’s ears. “Me too, honey.”

Judy absentmindedly strokes her own bare wrist until she falls asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) cwazy cupcakes. another spectacular b99 reference 
> 
> 2) this might not seem like it fits the rest of the story, but I'm kind of hoping the connections will make themselves clearer in the last two parts.


	5. hot toddies

Judy wakes up to find that Agatha is gone.

The door to her niece’s bedroom is open, and from the light leaking through, Judy can see that lamp in her bedroom across the hall is on. Slipping out of bed and rubbing the small crick in her neck, she walks over to find Nick sitting up in bed reading one of her romance novels with Agatha beside him, clutching his tail.

It’s an odd, yet somewhat adorable, sight.

“What are you reading?” Judy asks, rubbing her arms from the slight chill she’s gained from the loss of her her blanket. The bed divots slightly when she sits in the end, wrapping her arms around her.

“ _Pride and Prejudice,”_ Nick answers. “This Mr. Darcy sure is a prick, isn’t he?”

“Oh just you wait,” Judy whispers. “He redeems himself.”

Nick hums in understanding. “Sounds familiar. Much like a handsome police fox you might know?”

“I’m not so sure about handsome. But sure. We’ll go with tha-ah!”

He reaches over and tickles her sides. It takes everything in her power not to laugh like a madman and disturb Agatha. The only movement her niece makes is a subtle tight grip on his tail.

“Does that hurt?” She asks, pointing to his tail.

Nick shakes his head as he beckons Judy to come sit beside him on the other side of the bed. She does her best with the space allotted. “Not at all. Let her sleep. She came over and woke me up about an hour ago.”

Judy frowns, snuggling against his shoulder. “She didn’t wake me up. What was bothering her that she needed _you_?”

His paw rubs lightly up and down her arm, his eyes focused on the words in the book. “I think she was just checking on me, darling,” he whispers, dropping a kiss to one of Judy’s ears. “Saw you were just fine but wanted to see the same for me. I understand. She had a scary night.”

The guilt of not calling for so many hours creeps back up. “You think she’ll be alright?”

“I’m not worried. Bogo’s party should have her bouncing right back.” He pauses to set the book down. “Especially since we’ve still got peppermint bark to finish.”

Judy gawks. “More baked goods? My freezer is already stuffed full of sugar cookies.”

“Which reminds me, I need to take those out to thaw. I told Agatha we were going to wake up at the crack of dawn to get ready for today’s _extravaganza.”_

She points to the window on the far side of the bedroom. “It’s already dawn.”

“Shit,” he swears under his breath before he looks down at a sleeping Agatha who is still using his tail as a pillow. “Okay. Half-past dawn.” He yawns. “Give me 30 minutes and I’ll wake up and make coffee.”

Judy tries to move to let him sleep, but Nick just holds her to his side. “You don’t have to do that. I can make coffee. If you’d just let me _get up._ ”

“No,” Nick tells her, “You’re going to stay right here because I’m still cold from that shower and you’re _warm.”_

“You’re really annoying,” she grumbles, but she snuggles beside him anyway.

Judy notices he mumbles out baking recipes until he falls back asleep.

 

* * *

 

Judy wakes up alone _again._ It makes her wonder if she’s more of a heavy sleeper than she thinks, or she’s really just that tired.

Following the smell of coffee, she finds Nick and Agatha are already in the kitchen working on that peppermint bark. The cookies are out of her freezer and are piled high in tupperware on her kitchen table.

“I think you need more cookies,” she jokes, pouring herself a cup of coffee. “Is this decaf?”

_“God_ no,” Nick tells her, snatching the cup of coffee away from her before she can take a sip. He replaces it with a another cup he pours from a separate pot. “Sorry, I could not jump on the decaf train today.”

She glances at his attire. “But I see we’ve jumped on the ugly sweater train.”

Nick scoffs. “Duh. I got both you girls one as well so we can all match at the party..”

Agatha must be laughing at the look on Judy’s face. “No, Nick, you didn’t. This is a _nice_ party. No ugly sweaters. Bogo was pissed enough about it last year.”

“Fine. I’ll just wear my _holiday suit.”_

“Absolutely no Santa Claws costumes.”

“My candy-cane printed sweatpants.”

“Somehow that’s worse. Nick, just wear a _suit_ like a normal mammal? At least the dress shirt and slacks maybe?”

“I can promise you a tie, but that’s all you’ll get out of me.”

Judy gives up. At least he had promised not to make hot toddies.

 

* * *

 

Nick totally makes hot toddies.

He continues to wear the sweater and even throws a holiday tie over it. It clashes horribly on itself, as well as with Judy and Agatha's respectable Christmas dresses.

Whatmore, he also spikes the hot chocolate (with help from Trunkaby, no doubt). It needs something else, probably a touch of vanilla, (and less tequila) but she isn’t sure. Halfway through her third mug she asks for an opinion. “Agatha, taste this.”

She knows she’s not supposed to, but deep down there’s always going to be a part of Judy that’s, well, _rural._ Judy and all her siblings were sipping on wine when they were Agatha’s age, and she imagines the kids back home still do. It’s not like it’s a big _deal._ Judy’s totally watching over her and as long as she’s with a parent, it’s technically legal.

Besides, Jasper worked at the Bunnyburrow _winery_ so she’s sure her niece is used to it.

Judy still looks both ways for Bogo before passing the mug to Agatha.

She tastes a sip, smacking her lips a few times. “Needs cinnamon.” She passes the mug back. “The hot toddies are better.”

Again, Judy can’t help it-it makes her laugh. “How many of those have you had?”

“I haven’t,” she shakes her head. “I just snuck a taste.”

Eying the near empty styrofoam cup in her niece’s hand, she motioned for her to chug the rest of her perfectly unspiked punch before she poured a bit of the hot chocolate in her cup. “Not fair that all the adults have the fun,” she says, adding a wink for a little mischief.

Agatha giggles, her nose twitching with the prospect of doing something a little naughty, and takes a sip.

The party continues, the height of it being the Secret Santa exchange. Nick, a little drunk, loudly complains that next year they should do White Elephant next year (Trunkaby _trumpets)_ because that’s got potential to be _way_ more fun.

However, Judy thinks it’s already pretty fun when Bogo opens his gift of inspirational greeting cards.

“Wilde,” Bogo instantly identifies. “What a _thoughtful gift.”_

Nick says nothing, only sparing Judy a smug grin and a wink.

The rest of Secret Santa tapers out (Judy got Clawhauser a prized and rare reservation at Zootopia’s finest restaurant) but the party keeps going. Nick keeps asking what people think of his goods, and tries to keep a tally to decide who thinks his peppermint bark beats Wolford's peanut brittle.The officers and friends get a little more tipsy as the minutes tick by, and eventually, Judy is comfortable with qualifying herself as a little bit drunk.

So when Clawhauser sneaks a mistletoe between her and Nick, Judy doesn’t think _twice._

Later she’ll rationalize that Judy had seen the cheetah put the mistletoe between everyone; even Nick and Bogo were under it a one point, which led to Bogo simply saying if Nick didn’t keep a 3 foot distance between him for the rest of the night, he’ll get fired. Trunkaby, Fangmyer, Del Gato, Wolford...everyone had fallen victim to Clawhauser’s antics.

It’s simply her turn, she decides, as she grabs Nick by a paw full of ugly Christmas sweater and plants one on him.

She can momentarily hear the squeals and hollers from her coworkers, feel the surprise in Nick as he stiffens, but all at once the noise drowns out when Nick tugs her close and kisses her back.

All in all, she’s pretty sure a mistletoe kiss isn’t supposed to be a mini make-out session. Too bad that’s completely what it is.

Judy feels drunker than before when they finally pull apart.  Her eyes are still closed as their mouths linger and she feels his breath by her neck all ragged and _ruined_ before he presses one last feather kiss to her cheek.

_“Damn,”_ Clawhauser whistles as Judy opens her eyes. She blinks a few times to register reality and when her gaze flickers up to Nick, he appears as cool and collected as he always is. Judy figures she probably...isn’t either of those things.

She’s in the middle of trying to process all of her co-workers shock when she notices that Nick’s face looks…..different, and not at all like someone should look after they’re kissed. His expression is a mix of guilt and something she can’t decipher.

“Um. Carrots?” he points behind her.

Agatha walks over, looking like every  step takes _monumental effort_ in order to be steady. “Hi, Aunt Judy!” she says loudly.

That’s the thing. Agatha isn’t _loud._

The pieces fall together.

"Oh, no," Judy whispers.

“Wait,” Nick interrupts, teeth bore in a shit-eating grin. “You gave her alcohol? Miss Goody-Two Shoes cop  gave her daughter _booze.”_

“It was only a little!" She defends.

"Uh-huh."

"It was just a sip, how was I supposed to know that was enough to give her a buzz?”

“She barely weighs more than a feather.”

“Not true. Besides, I’m her mom, I’m allowed to give her booze.” A pause that makes Nick chuckle. “Sorta. That….didn’t come out right, It’s not like I let her drink any other time-”

Her co-workers are cracking smiles and snickering when she hears it; loud, louder than she normally is, but still quiet:

“I’m not her daughter.”

Judy stops short and her head whips around so fast she hears her neck _crack._ Agatha is looking up at Bogo with a bit of an expressionless face before she looks back down at her feet and scuffs the floor. “She said she’s my mom but that’s not true because I don’t have a mom anymore.”

Judy’s ears wilt.

Agatha looks blankly at her empty mug. “My parents died,” she looks back up at Bogo. “Did you know that?”

Bogo’s expression is of genuine sympathy. “I was aware. My condolences.”

“Okay,” Nick says quietly as the voices of their co-workers hush in shock and awkwardness. “I think we’ve put enough of a damper on this party. I think it’s time to go.”

As Nick walks over to offer Agatha a paw, Judy feels like her feet are stuck in cement. “Judy,” and her name rolls off his tongue in a somber tone she hasn’t heard since the day she found out Jasper died. “C’mon, let’s go.”

Judy shakes her head as Agatha tugs gently on the sleeve of her red Christmas dress. “Aunt Judy? Are you okay?”

She finally speaks. “I’m fine.”

“Then why are you crying?”

Her paw comes up to wipe at wet eyes and she ducks her head in hopes of hiding it from her co-workers, even though most have seemed to disperse. “Let’s go,” Judy agrees, dodging the question entirely.

She’ll ask again on the way to the station, and by then she’ll have enough sense to blame it on the chilled wind.

 

* * *

 

“You know she loves you, right?”

They’re on a bus back to her apartment; they’re the only mammals on the bus and the driver has turned off the bright, harsh interior lights. The reflections of a thousand neon lights light up their faces as the bus takes an agonizingly long route home.

Almost as soon as they had boarded the bus, Agatha fell asleep. She’s currently got her head in Judy’s lap, her feet in Nick’s, and Judy has taken to stroking her niece’s ears while she sleeps.

“I know,” Judy whispers, looking out the window. “But she’s right, I’m not her mother.”

Nick sighs. “This is my fault. I’m the one that called her your daughter. If I hadn’t-”

“It’s okay,” Judy cuts him off. “You never knew her before. She’s always been my kid to you.”

“To be fair,” He starts, “She’s always been your kid to you too, right?” Nick immediately starts to backpedal. “I mean, you never met Agatha before your brother died.”

She fails to fight the crumpling of her face and the wobbling of her jaw. Her tears spill over. “You’re right. I didn’t know her before. She’s always been my kid.”

Drunk and without anymore energy to keep it together, Judy cries.

“Agatha’s not mad,” Judy says as quietly as she can between hiccuped sobs. “I know she isn’t. She was just stating a fact. She doesn’t want her or anyone else to forget her parents. And I’m with her on that, I don’t want them to be forgotten but you have to under _stand.-”_

She looks up at Nick and gives a watery smile.

“I _love her,”_ Judy whispers. “I love her so much. You, me, her, we’re this stupid taped-up excuse of a family. But every time I think about how much I love having her, I think about the cost it took.”

Nick is silent.

“I feel guilty,” she finally admits.

The bus stops at an empty stop before merging back onto the road again.

“Carrots,” Nick mumbles as Agatha shifts in their laps. “You don’t have to be guilty for what….fell in your lap.” The word play isn’t lost on her and she finds herself cracking a small shell of a smile as he reaches over to hold her paw. “You didn’t _wish_ for this to happen. No one would ever think that. You have nothing to feel guilty for, okay?”

He squeezes her paw and she lets out a pathetic laugh, wiping away some more stray tears. “I don’t know about _nothing._ We completely made-out with each other in front of all of our co-workers.”

“Oh, _that,”_ Nick laughs, nervous, and lets his head fall back against the bus seat. “Anyway we can push this conversation to New Years?”

Judy looks up at his face, patterns of light falling in different shapes on his face, and sees the apprehension in his eyes. “Hey,” she whispers. “Look at me.”

He does.

“I feel guilty about the show we put on in front of everyone but....the kiss?  You have nothing to feel guilty about.”  She whispers. “Okay?”

“Yeah?” His voice is small, nervous, unsure.

Judy nods.

Nick takes a deep breath. “That’s...uh, good. Can we still push this conversation back to New Years?”

Honestly, Judy isn’t ready to sort it out either. She clearly hasn’t had the proper amount of time to overthink _everything._ She reckons Nick wishes to do the same. “Sure,” she laughs before she shoves a finger into his chest. “But you can’t make-out with me at midnight until we’ve sorted it out.”

Nick scoffs. “What makes you think I’d _want_ to?” he teases.

From their laps, her niece stirs and wakes up from her short nap. “Who doesn't want to what?,” she asks with a yawn.

"Nick doesn't want to kiss me on New Years."

" _Liar."_

"Don't listen to her, Carrots, she's  _drunk."_

_"_ "I haven't been drunk," Agatha says wearily, and Judy can already hear how the buzz has completely worn off. "You know I'm right."

Judy kind of loves how flustered Nick looks. “No more loud-mouth soup for you, kiddo.” He looks at Judy and tries to crack a grin. "Okay I take it back: you have  _one_ thing to feel guilty about."

A roll of her eyes. "Gee, you think?"

Agatha continues to lay nearly face down in Judy’s lap. “Sorry,” she apologizes.

Nick shrugs. “Eh, no worries. To be honest, it was kind of funny.”

“ _Nick.”_

“What? She’s a very small child, okay, it was _kind of funny.”_

She opens her mouth to refute, to explain that the spike hot chocolate was _kind of a bad parenting move,_ but then she hears Agatha giggle. Nick joins in and suddenly, Judy can’t help but laugh as well. To be honest, it is kind of funny.

So Judy decides the lecture can wait ‘til New Years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please don't think I'm a bad person I don't condone kids drinking!!! I swear!!!! lol it's just a story.
> 
> ps: I know some of u were upset with the lack of wildehopps cuddles, so I put a little in there :) plus a kiss :):):) 
> 
> pss: some of u commented earlier on bogo's secret santa gift....y'all already knew....y'all alreay knew lmao


	6. watermelon

_“Baby, I looked everywhere, but I couldn’t find it.”_

Judy grimaces as she pricks her finger _yet again_ in her quest to sew up all the missing buttons on Nick’s work shirts and her flannels. An early morning of searching through all her stuff turned into a discovery of forgotten items and chores that has led Judy to clean, dust, and toss out. She’s currently on the sewing part. Adjusting the earbud in her ear, Judy makes sure the mic is close to her face so she doesn’t have to continually listen to her mother asking to repeat herself. “You looked in my old room?”

_“Yes. I even called Kyle and Izzy, they haven’t seen it. I’m sorry.”_

“That’s okay,” Judy decides, looking around at her room. She _knows_ she hasn’t thrown it out, it’s just a matter of remembering where it might have gotten tucked away in the last few years.

_“What do you need that old box for anyway? I thought you just kept your old softball trophies and school projects in there.”_

Yes, that’s true. But there are other things in there as well. Including, “I had that button collection in there.” At her mother’s silence, Judy adds on, “You know, remember that summer I found two identical ice cream cone buttons and I lost my mind?”

Her mother gasps over the phone. _“Oh, yes, yes, I remember now. You had a lot of fun that summer. You and Jasper were two peas in a pod, building that...what was it again?”_

“A watermelon catapult.” Judy smiles at the memory. “It wasn’t very good.”

_“I’m sure it was just fine.”_

“It sucked,” she assures her mother, laughing. “But that’s okay.”

Her mother clears her throat over the phone. _“Speaking of Jasper, how’s Aggie? Did she enjoy the party your office put on?”_

Judy’s ears immediately wilt. “Much like the catapult, it was kind of a disaster.”

_“Oh, I’m sure it wasn’t as bad as you think. It never is.”_

It really isn’t, but the guilt and embarrassment still stings like a fresh wound. “Hey, mom? Can I ask you something?”

_“Of course, baby.”_

She hesitates, only for a moment, before she asks what’s been more or less on her mind for the last few months. “Do you know….why Jasper picked me?”

For a few long moments, all Judy can hear is her mother’s steady breathing over the phone and matches it. _“It’s been almost a year. You don’t have to walk on eggshells around her anymore.”_

Judy’s brow furrows. “Wait, what do you mean-”

_“You’re the closest thing she has now. You have to be able to ask her anything, just like you ask me. To tell you the truth, I don’t know why Jasper picked you. He never told me. But somehow, in someway, he probably told Agatha.”_

She grips the phone tighter in her hand.

_“Just ask her. It’ll be okay. Merry Christmas, Judy.”_

“Merry Christmas, mom.”

 

* * *

 

Agatha’s gift for Nick proves to be the perfect distraction. Although, Judy could definitely do without unpacking more boxes.

“He’s going to kill me, you know,” Judy mentions offhandedly as she sifts through some of Nick’s old vinyls in search for the Frank Shrewnatra Christmas collection she knows he has.

“Why?” Agatha asks, as she attempts to untangle another string of Christmas lights they found in Nick’s storage underneath the house--it’s the only sad, pathetic box of Christmas decorations that Nick has. “His apartment is cool. Though I don’t know why he has so many lamps.”

The lamps seem nothing compared to the half-doored cabinets and matching talavera bathroom and counters. “He’s a bit of a hoarder, as you can see. Also I don’t think he’s dusted since before I was born.”

On cue, Agatha sneezes before falling into a fit of giggles. “We should hang the lights on some of the lamps, too.”

Judy eventually finds the record she’s looking for and puts it on before she starts going through the stack of books and board games that Nick is currently using as one of the legs of his dining room table. “Guess this means he’s eating at our place for a while,” she decides as she yanks out a scrabble box that’s in the middle, upsetting the table.

Take-out menus, napkins, and various ink-pen doodles on notecards go falling onto the ground.

“Cool!” Agatha exclaims, picking out one of the drawings--an unflattering caricature of Bogo. “He can draw. I didn’t know that.”

Judy hums absently as she starts picking out the letters in the game. “There’s a lot he keeps to himself,” she says to herself before she claps her paws together in determination. “Okay! We’re going to make some ornaments. Glue the letters together on some ribbon and make whatever words you want-Joy, Jingle, Ho Ho Ho, whatever you can think of, but, uh,” she starts separating some of the letters. “Don’t use these. I want to make something with those tiles.”

“Okay,” Agatha agrees, not even looking at the pile Judy’s set apart.

While her niece is making those ornaments, Judy divides her time between setting up the last-minute mini-tree they bought at the tree farm and going through more of Nick’s stuff. It feels more than personal--especially when she finds his old Ranger Scout uniform, but she keeps looking because he _has_ to have one, there’s got to be some--

“My dad would have loved this.”

Judy stops what she’s doing and turns around, watching as Agatha continues to glue the words _Merry_ together with a big smile on his face. “We always made ornaments, but we never did this. Did you two do this as kids at the burrow?”

“No, we didn’t,” Judy murmurs as Agatha continues, unperturbed.

“Most of it was just painting regular ornaments, but one year he made a star for the tree out of a ton of wine corks,” she continues. “This year he was going to make one for the big tree at town square.”

Clearing her throat, Judy tries to distract herself by rummaging through more boxes. It doesn’t go very well. So, Judy caves. “Agatha, can I ask you a question?”

Her niece lifts her head and waits.

“Why did Jasper leave you with _me?”_

The questions doesn’t appear to upset her, just confuse her. “What do you mean?”

Judy runs her paw to smooth down her ears. “Well, I mean. I have like, _300_ brothers and sisters. And I know that I was Jasper’s only littermate but, I’ll be honest we weren’t _close._ ”

“You weren’t?”

She shakes her head.

Agatha’s brow furrows. “I don’t get it. You were his favorite sister. He talked about you all the time.”

Judy’s eyes went a bit wide and she pointed to herself. _“Me?”_

She nods casually, like this isn’t a complete gamechanger. “Yeah. He looked up to you a lot. He thought you becoming a police officer was really brave. He said everything you did was brave. You were his hero.”

Agatha smiles at her like the sting of her loss isn’t so great anymore, and then just like that, it isn’t there anymore. Judy notices she’s shaking and Agatha frowns. “He never told you?” she whispers.

Judy looks away and back at the boxes. “We weren’t close,” Judy admits woefully, as she starts digging underneath a quilt trying to grab at the touch of square glass she was sure her paw glided across--

At the bottom of the saddest box in Nick’s room is a frame. The picture is still inside.

She’d never seen a single picture of his family before and looking at this one is kind of surreal. Nick and his father looked scary identical: same eyes, same smile, same coat, same everything. His mother was quieter, softer, lighter and his sister stuck out with dark grey fur and copper eyes that had the same mischievous glint as Nick.

They all looked so….happy.

And yet while even finding this miraculous artifact of Nick’s life, Judy couldn’t help but feel a tinge of hurt realizing she doesn’t have a single surviving photo of her with Jasper.

“Is that Nick’s family?”

Judy jumps slightly as Agatha hangs over her, resting her head on her shoulder as she looks down at the framed photo. “I think so,” Judy tells her. “Nick’s never shown me a photo.”

A pause as Agatha gives the picture a good once over. “How come? Where is his family, anyway?”

There’s a lot that Judy doesn’t know, a lot that Judy will probably _never_ know, but she does know this: “They’re long gone.”

Agatha frowns. “D’you think he misses them?”

Her smile feels watery as she reaches behind to scratch at one of her niece’s ears. She doesn’t know much about his family, but what he’s spoken of makes him think he was quite fond of them. “I’m sure he does, sweetheart.”

Mouth quirked to the side and nose twitching a million miles an hour, Agatha looks pensive before she snatches the photo and runs over to the coffee table near the tree. “Let’s put it out.”

“Agatha, it’s in the box for a reason-”

“Aunt Juuuuuuuuudy,” she whines playfully. “It’s Christmas! That means family time, even for the family that’s gone, right?”

Judy blinks, taken aback, before she laughs. “What Clawmark movie did you steal that line from?”

“Doesn’t make it not true,” she argues.

“You got me there,” Judy concedes, handing the photo over to her, smiling.

The next four hours is filled with laughs and tumbles (Judy falls off Nick’s table _twice)_ trying to hang lights, decorate trees, and wrap presents. Judy had managed to get Nick roped into a work thing down at the station, giving them just enough time to get it decorated before their scheduled Christmas Eve dinner. Sure, in retrospect, Nick might be kind of peeved about having to work on Christmas Eve but in the end Judy thinks the risk is worth the potential reward.

“Okay, almost done,” Judy says aloud as dusk starts to settle in. The tree is up, the lights are up, Nick’s family photo is up, and his little dingy apartment looks positively festive. “I just want to see if I can find one more string of lights,” she says, hopping to her feet and running to Nick’s bedroom where he keeps all his boxes of various...things he can’t bear to part with.

The one cardboard box labeled “ _holiday”_ is empty, save for a stray cobwebbed skeleton decoration from Halloween. Not deterred, Judy tries moving around the boxes that say _books, china, clothes_ until she finds it. Not the lights, but something better.

A box labeled _Keepsakes_ in her own girlish scrawl.

Stunned, it takes a moment for her to realize it must have been left behind at Nick’s house after that weird week when she moved her stuff around changing apartments when she got custody of Agatha. Slowly, she opens the box and starts pulling out everything she’s kept over the years: softball trophies, birthday cards, that damned button collection and then exactly what she’s been looking for. Tattered, dirty, yet soft as her own ears, it looks exactly as she remembers.

“Aunt Judy? Did you find the lights?”

Hastily, she stuffs her finding in the front pocket of her flannel. “No, I didn’t.”

“That’s okay. I found something better to hang up.”

Judy emerges from the bedroom to find Agatha already standing on a stack of books atop a _chair_ to try and hang a damn mistletoe in the front entrance way.

She fixes her with a flat look. “Where did you get that?”

“Clawhauser gave it to me,” Agatha tells her rather smugly. “I thought since you and Nick enjoyed it so much at the party, he’d like it here, too.”

Judy is _red._ “Aren’t you _thoughtful.”_

Agatha giggles as she attempts to tie the mistletoe up, but in the end, it’s Judy that hangs it. It seems she just can’t say no to her.

At least, that’s the logic that she uses.

 

* * *

 

As they await Nick’s return, Judy passes the time swiffering the floors and re-washing his mugs that are dust ridden in his apartment. The apartment sports a colorful glow of multi-colored fairy lights that are wrapped around the tree and hung all across the ceiling. She’s even thinking about plugging in more lamps when the front door opens.

Nick is always the type to start talking _immediately_ when he gets home, so Judy knows she’s caught him by surprise when he opens the door silently, fumbling with his messenger bag. But as soon as he registers all the lights in his house his eyes go wide.

“What-what’s all this?” he asks, dropping the stuff carelessly in the corner by the door.

Agatha jumps up, arms above her head. “Merry Christmas Eve, Nick!”

His jaw is still more or less on the floor as Agatha darts over and attacks him with a hug. “I can see that, kiddo. But, uh,” he swallows, looking nervous. “Why? We already decorated your Aunt Judy’s so nicely, yeah?”

“I know, but,” Agatha sucks in a breath. “I wanted to do Christmas like your dad did. With the cheesy lights and the ornaments and opening presents on Christmas Eve.”

Judy gives a baffled Nick a smile. “This is her present to you, Nick.”

Nick nods numbly as he walks around the apartment, taking note of all the things Judy and Agatha had brought with consideration of all the mentionings during the holiday. The silly stockings were hanging off the kitchen island, the cookie jar in the shape of a Santa Claws was filled with sugar cookies and the father’s favorite--peppermint bark, and the lights were brighter than those at the disco-tech.

“You did all this for me?” Nick mumbles as he hones in on the tree. Several of the ornaments are made from the scrabble pieces, including the ones Judy had made special: _Mom, Dad, Penny._  Like he’s a kid again. Like this is his childhood home. The claws run alongside the dried hot glue holding the tiles together.

Then he freezes, seeing the photograph out of the corner of the eye.

Judy watches with baited breath as he trudges over, and picks up the frame with a tired, almost limp paw.

“I haven’t seen this in years,” he whispers, tracing over the faces of his sister, mother, father. “This was the last one of all of us. I couldn’t bear to look at it for ages.”

Regret etches in both Agatha and Judy’s faces. “I’m sorry, Nick, I can put it away-”

“They’re all gone now,” Nick says. “My dad died, my sister went missing, and my mom’s mind just...left. So then it was just me. So I couldn’t bear to look at it for ages. It got stuffed in a box and I forgot about it.”

Silence.

And then Nick’s mouth curls into a smile, and his eyes water.

“Thanks for taking it back out. I missed them.”

Agathe is the first to recover. “You’re welcome,” she says quietly. “Aunt Judy has a present for you.”

Nick blinks back the tears, hastily wiping at his cheeks. “Another one? I thought this was the present.”

“This is Agatha’s present. Mine is different,” Judy tells him as she darts to Nick’s bedroom and returns with a garment bag, too delicate to wrap. “I wanted it to be ready for the Christmas party but the buttons weren’t done in time….” Judy chatters as she unzips the bag and lays out the present on Nick’s table. “Ta-da! Merry Christmas.”

His very own, custom-made, three piece suit.

Nick stares in awe. “You got me a _suit?”_

“You don’t own one,” Judy says, “I realized that a while ago. I wouldn’t be surprised if you haven’t owned one since your Dad made you the one when you were little so, I uh, I got you one! I know grey is kind of boring so I spruced it up with the buttons.” She drags him over by the paw. “Come on, look.”

Nick traces the buttons. “Are these...made of pennies?”

“Yeah,” she whispers. “For the tie, I got you a blue one and look, for the clip I got one in the shape of a--”

“Carrot,” Nick laughs. “It’s a carrot.”

Judy smiles and reaches into the front pocket of the suit. “And the pocket square has a carrot on it too, since you’ve got two carrots in your life now.”

Nick stares at the suit in awe. “Judy, this is…”

“Almost complete. All it needs is….” she reaches into her pockets and squeezes on to the keepsake of Nick’s she found in the top drawer of the desk. “Some cuff links.”

She drops them into his paw.

“Merry Christmas, Nick.”

He pulls her into the tightest hug she’s ever gotten.

“Merry Christmas, Judy.”

 

* * *

 

Nick’s shock wears off pretty quickly to make room for absolute childish _glee._ He’s got the three of them on the floor sipping hot chocolate in no time, sharing their favorite Christmas stories and eating cookies and candies. They’re debating over whether or not to open presents when Nick throws out that, “I just hope Judy got you something god. I heard she was thinking of getting you a sweater.”

Agatha blinks. “I like sweaters…”

He laughs, and tugs on one of her ears, laughing harder when she swats him away. “So how about it Carrots? I got a gift tonight, seems only fair you and Agatha get one. Do you have hers here?”

She does. It’s stowed in an empty deck of cards case, hastily wrapped in newspaper. She can feel its weight in her pocket. “Yeah, I do,” she says, taking it out. “It isn’t really up to my normal standards for wrapping…”

“I’ll say,” Nick teases.

“...But I didn’t think I’d ever find it and….” she trails off with a sigh and hands it over to Agatha. “Here.”

Agatha takes it with great care, and Judy waits with baited breath as she unwraps it and opens the little card case, shaking it to let the tattered piece of yarn drop into her lap.

It’s a watermelon bracelet.

Specifically, Judy’s favorite watermelon bracelet.

“I know it’s kind of worn and a little dirty, but I was afraid to wash it again once it started to unravel,” Judy explains.

“What is it?” she asks, a little perplexed as she delicately holds the yarn bracelet in her paw.

“Every year we got a secret santa at the burrow,” Judy begins to explain. “I always got the same sort of things every Christmas from whichever brother or sister had me that year. Books, pencils, pens, things for school. I was a nerd, so I liked those kinds of gifts. So they were never very personal. But one year, when I was 16, I got that bracelet. I really loved it. No one had ever put so much thought into giving me a gift before.”

Agatha’s brow furrows. “Why give it to me, then?”

“There was one summer, after the Carrots Day festival had passed, the one where I told everyone I wanted to be a cop and Gideon scratched me, I felt a little...down. I had never considered that I couldn’t do anything I wanted to do. I was still going to try, but it made me sad thinking about how difficult it might be.

“I was drinking lemonade on the porch when Jasper came up and asked me….if I wanted to help our older sister Andrea build a better catapult so we could beat our cousin Caroline in the annual Watermelon Chuckin’ Contest. I was hesitant at first, but Jasper said we’d make a good team, so I went along with it. We spent a lot of time helping Andy with building and when we weren’t doing that, we were getting ice cream together, swinging on the tire swing by the lake, riding our bikes out on the roads. We spent the whole summer together. I think he knew I was feeling bad about the whole Gideon thing and he was trying to cheer me up.

“We never really spent that much time together again. Our routines went back to normal after that. I still had good summers, but they weren’t as fun as that one. I didn’t think Jasper thought much of them until those 6 or 7 years later and I unwrapped that bracelet.”

Agatha lifts her head and locks eyes with Judy.

“Your father made me that bracelet,” Judy whispers. “After all those years, he took the time to make me that bracelet to remind me of that summer. It’s one of the only things I have left of him.”

“Aunt Judy,” she says, laying the bracelet on her wrist. “I….if….You should keep it.”

“No, I want you to have it,” she insists, giving her a wobbly smile. “Even if it wasn’t his plan, he ended up giving me something better.”

Judy reaches over and pokes her niece’s nose.

“I got his best self,” she whispers, running her paw down one of Agatha’s ears. “I got you.”

Agatha throws herself into Judy, wrapping her in a hug. “Thank you,” she whispers into Judy’s shoulder.

“You’re welcome.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Judy takes a deep breath before she looks over at Nick, who’s got a dopey smile on the face.

“Way better than a sweater, Carrots,” he says softly. “Good job.”

 

* * *

 

 They’re putting on their coats, ready to head over to Judy’s so they can all sleep in one place and wake up on Christmas together when Agatha announces she’s left something in Nick’s room.

“Odd,” Judy mumbles as she zips up her coat. “I didn’t think she went in your room.”

“Maybe it’s another present,” Nick teases as he stands by the door to reach for the lights to turn off everything in the apartment.

But as it turns out, Nick might be right. “Is it this one?” Agatha asks, handing Nick a newspaper.

“That’s the one, little carrot, good job. Here you go.” Nick announces, holding out the paper to Judy.

She takes it, suspicious. “Last time you did this you had circled all the job ads in Zootopia because you thought Bogo was going to fire me when I accidentally knocked over the coffee.”

“It was a fair concern,” he shrugs. “Open to page 16.”

She does, and finds herself looking at housing ads. “Are you trying to tell me you’re going to move out?”

“Something like that. As you can see, my normal, pessimistic side has circled the three bedrooms, while my newfound optimistic side, a creation of yours I assure you, has circled the two bedrooms.”

Judy’s eyes snap up.

“I don’t want to rush things, but I don’t want to wait any longer, either. That party...that _kiss…._ Judy, I want to kiss you like that for the rest of my life. I want us to live together, all three of us. Because I love you. I love our taped up family.”

Judy is _red._ Her heart feels like it’s about to fall out of her ears and she’s pretty sure she might faint but most of all she’s _happy._ She’s instantaneously happy and that surprises her but she realizes a second later that it shouldn’t because she wants to kiss him like that for the rest of her life, too.

She remembers the ploy of Agatha’s from earlier and her eyes drift up. “You know,” she starts, her grin growing devious. “I really don’t feel like waiting til New Years.”

“Finally,” Agatha whispers, falling back onto the floors of Nick’s apartment.

“Oh, thank _God,”_ Nick murmurs before he grabs Judy and kisses her like he wants to for their rest of their lives, just like he promised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished my christmas fic in march. wow. wow. WOW. I suck lmfao
> 
> the muse kinda left, but I really wanted to finish this one, so I hope you liked it. I really like to write about family dynamics, so I think that this one kinda covers all of them lol. sorry for the wait I have no real excuse but look it's done!!!!!!!!

**Author's Note:**

> I NEED TO WRITE A CHRISTMAS FIC!!!! IT GIVES ME LIFE. I'm trying to throw a few different elements in the story to make it a little bit of an atypical WildeHopps fic that I hope you will enjoy! But rest assured. This will be a WildeHopps fic.
> 
> (Yes I picked Agatha after the crime novelist :3)


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